NOW FOR THEN Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
“One,” she heard herself say in her head as her heels sank down the steps of St. Teresa’s Academy. “One, one, one, one.”
“Ms. Cabot, we really need you to fill out the forms completely,” Marshal Shuman’s frustrated voice boomed in her ears as she reached the pavement.
“Fine,” she took the papers back and scribbled ‘N/A’ in the section in question.
“Not applicable is not an acceptable answer, Ms. Cabot,” the marshal looked at her firmly. He could have been her father in a different life, equally strict and insistent if he wanted to be.
Without saying a word, she tore the page from his hand, scratched out ‘N/A’ and wrote, ‘See question 15’ instead. “There,” she said.
“Ms. Cabot, I don’t think I’m making myself clear, you must answer the questionnaire fully. Otherwise, we don’t feel confident about our ability to protect you.” He explained, quite patiently, just like her father would. “You have no idea how many people we had to keep relocating because they’ve forgotten to tell us about people in their past. Sometimes, their one night stands recognized them when they were too drunk to remember. I’m not suggesting or insinuating you have any of those.”
“I AM answering fully.”
“Detective Benson?”
“That’s it.”
“Just one?”
“Yes, just one. Okay? ONE! I didn’t plan it that way, it’s really no big deal. And why am I justifying to you?” It sounded like she was screaming. Through the Demerol haze, she wasn’t too sure, and she didn’t quite care.
“I had no idea, Ms. Cabot. I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not a shameful thing.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” the man quickly apologized. “God forbid, if for some reason my own daughter had to have the same conversation you’re having with a US Marshal, I hope her answer for number 56 is the same as yours.”
“It’s really not a big deal, Marshal Shuman.” She had told him then, and had even believed it then. For various reasons, the ‘not a big deal’ part wasn’t always true. At least not to other people. It had mattered to her father. It had mattered to her SOFU. To Edith. To Ling. She suspected somewhere deep down it mattered to Olivia, too. For an entirely different set of reasons, she was sure.
**At least when I tell her tabula rasa, I can honestly mean it.** She smiled, never intending for that to change, if she could at all help it.
Soon, ‘almost daily’ echoed her footsteps. This time in the dull, timid voice of a seventeen year-old girl. A woman really, considering what she had been through. Somehow Alex couldn’t stop thinking of her as a girl. But for the hollowness of her black brown eyes, she looked like one.
Now, she had to admit, she was glad her answer was ‘One’. ‘Almost daily’ with ‘One’ would be a pleasant rosy pink dream for Alex. It would not be a harsh frightful nightmare, like it was for her seventeen year-old client.
The young woman had been in the country since she was six. Sold, by her parents. Her master started raping her almost daily since she turned thirteen. When her mistress found out, she was beaten for seducing her master. Then, she was beaten for not servicing him properly. She was beaten again because her master still had enough energy at the end of the day to rape her mistress. Almost daily, all of the above.
One day, her mistress disappeared. A few days later, her master was taken away. Three months later, she was still at St. Teresa’s, awaiting the mercy of the US government. So many days later, she still wished she could go back to her master’s house.
“Why?” Alex had asked, realizing she shouldn’t have.
“Back home, I have no one, no choices, no life. It’s better to be one man’s property than many men’s whore.” The girl answered simply, with fatalistic practicality, without emotions.
Same exact words, but the meanings so starkly different. For as long as she could remember, she wanted to be Olivia’s property, wanted to belong to her. Desperately. And she would wantonly willingly acquiesce if Olivia wanted to treat her like her whore, ‘hers’ being the operative expression. At the end of the day, she knew how it would feel to be in her lover’s arms: safe, protected, treasured, and loved.
As soon as Olivia found out Alex needed her, she’d be right there, trying to keep her from harm’s way. Every time; without fail. From day one, when they were just Detective and ADA. Even if they had been fighting like cats and dogs, even if they had been on non-speaking terms. Her unwavering, dizzyingly beautiful, wonderful ‘One’. She should really be grateful and not fight it so hard sometimes. If she were truly honest with herself, Alex wouldn’t trade Olivia’s attentiveness for too many things in this world. Possibly nothing.
Friend, lover, playmate, soul mate, protector, defender… etc. all rolled into one. Suddenly, it was important, extremely important to Alex. She couldn’t imagine any number but ‘One’.
The sound of ‘Almost daily’ ceased when she stopped, and waited for the light to change. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt it. Like someone was staring at her. And she turned to see the driver of a dark blue sedan look away. When the light became to green, and he sped on, she continued across the street. She didn’t think any more of the car, or the girl.
Her steps were almost light when it changed back to a series of ‘Ones’. Granted, she didn’t know when Olivia would be there, but at least they were finally, officially together. Their jobs, the victims, both always came first. Alex understood, accepted, even approved.
**Although my definition of ‘victim’ certainly has changed… or maybe just expanded…** The Assistant Public Defender thought, as she walked by two young men exchanging hand signals. **Wonder how the system failed these boys…** She sighed, contemplating the hopelessness of their future, as they stayed trapped in the world of drugs and gangs.
A block later, she was coming upon the same blue sedan. At least it looked to be the same, non-descriptive except for its shininess, in the middle of a drizzly week. Maybe they were just trying to find an address. A month ago, she would have gotten so hopelessly lost in this city. Thank goodness for GPS.
Just then, the street lights came on. Alex looked towards the sky. The weather was definitely going to take a turn for the worse. It would probably snow tonight. It would be completely dark soon, and she still had a long way to go. Granted, home was just six blocks away, but these were longer than average city blocks. Filled with industrial and commercial buildings, this particular section was depressing and desolate in a strange way.
She wondered what Olivia was doing, hoping her case was progressing quickly and that she was safe. Maybe she would catch a few breaks. Maybe it would be over with soon. Then they would be in each other’s arms for the rest of the holiday. At least she could wish, hope and pray. There was certainly nothing to prevent her from doing any of that. Maybe whichever saints watching over lawyers, cops, and lovers would take pity on her.
Oh, she supposed she should pray to the weather god, too. So planes wouldn’t be grounded…
**Jaime O’Brien, Alex Cabot, whoever you are, you’re so pathetic…** she chided. **You’d think you’re still sixteen… dying to be with your first crush…**
Alex realized she was again twisting the claddah ring on her ring finger back and forth. Sometimes she would catch herself doing that, as if the simple band were an all-purpose talisman. Her lips curved involuntarily into a smile, as her thumb traced the soft dips and bumps of the gold inset. It was not just a simple ring. The implication of Olivia’s ‘now that you’re Irish, this makes sense’ was not lost on her.
So many days, so many months of doubts and frustrations and heartaches… None of that matter to Alex now. She was determined to look only at the present. And even to the future, if she was feeling particularly brave. She now had concrete, physical, clear and convincing proof that Olivia loved her. And the smile lit up her face a way not even sunlight could.
She went back to thinking about ‘girl.’ She used to hate that word. Her father told her she was a woman the day she got her period. She was supposed to be all grown up at sixteen. And when she turned twenty-one, she was definitely, legally a woman. A free, independent woman of her own. Not a girl… She didn’t want to be a girl, and worked hard at not being one.
When Olivia first called her ‘girl’, she cringed. “That’s the girl.” It was a praise, for opening her lips and accepting those watery fingers into her mouth and sucking herself off of them, and letting her lover take it back, take it all back, in an owning kiss.
“That’s the girl,” Olivia would say in her breathy, seductive mezzo voice. A reward for letting down another layer of wall, reaching another level of intimacy, and unveiling another plane of desire. Whose? Alex wasn’t quite sure, and she didn’t quite care.
‘Sweet girl’, ‘Cranky girl’, ‘Good girl’, ‘Bad girl’, ‘Big girl’, ‘Baby girl’… OLIVIA’s girl… No, it really wasn’t so bad, not so bad at all.
Maybe it wasn’t just lawyer semantics, like every word had a distinct meaning, no matter how subtle. Like Olivia was beautiful, alluring, appealing, bewitching, charming, classy, cute, dazzling, elegant, enticing, fine, good-looking, gorgeous, graceful, lovely, ravishing, shapely, stunning, sublime…
And she was wonderful, amazing, awe-inspiring, cool, extraordinary, fabulous, fantastic, groovy, incredible, magnificent, marvelous, phenomenal, remarkable, sensational, superb…
And HOT. SUPER HOT.
No, it wasn’t about lawyers and their compulsive need for unambiguous word choices, Alex decided. Maybe everyone should be somebody’s ‘girl’. Maybe that was why she kept calling her client a girl. Nobody else had treated her like one…
“That’s the girl… That’s the girl… That’s… My girl.” Alex heard her lover’s tender sultry tone calling her. And saw the cute crooked smile that would always unfailingly cause her heart to skip. Skip and flutter up her throat and down her chest and belly, down between her legs.
She hugged herself tightly and sighed. Pushing away the days and hours of longing, the involuntary crazy fantastic visions, the staggering and staggeringly vivid illusions that made her understand, made her let go. That made her come. Hard. In her dreams. In her sleep. That left her empty and unspent, lonely and unfulfilled.
Still, she shivered to the memory of being in her lover’s strong gentle loving arms. With her head against her soft full breasts. Her nose her pores her soul inhaling Olivia’s scent: Musky and untamed, fruity and sweet, earthy and comforting. Irresistible, intoxicating, soothing. Like wildflowers in the warm early summer sun.
And Olivia’s eyes… the smooth rich dark liquid cocoa that entranced and overwhelmed Alex. Every time she gazed into them she found herself unbalanced, shaken. Whenever she regained her equilibrium, and thought she was safe, she would remember she was standing over a steep precipice. She knew if she weren’t careful, she would fall. And she would lose something, something important in the process. But she kept looking into them, kept losing and reclaiming her balance, until one day that something became clear. She knew she would lose herself.
And she had only just found herself. Finally, after so many years of searching. And it had surprised her, how easy it would be for her to give it up. For her ‘One’. Her all.
If the sheer force should take her forward, she hoped Olivia would be there. To catch her. To fly her up. Either one. Or both. It wouldn’t matter to Alex, as long as Olivia was right beside her.
Then. She turned her head. And saw it. The same blue sedan.
Something about that car had unnerved Alex. **Stop being silly! You’re being irrational!** She scolded herself. **If they’re not lost, they’re probably trying to find parking.** Parking was next to impossible this time of the evening, especially in her neighborhood.
**Is that…?** Looking to the next block, and quickly shaking her head. She could have sworn it was the same two young men from earlier. That didn't make any sense. **How could they have gotten ahead without me noticing?** Alex met eyes with them, and they quickly looked away. **Were they the same men after all? Not in all likelihood. Maybe I should be paying more attention… Wait, why the sudden paranoia?**
Maybe the excitement of Olivia's impending arrival combined with too much caffeine was doing something funny to her brain. Over the last two days, she had allowed the bad habit to slip back into her life. The lack of sleep probably didn't help any either. She would be so glad when she had her lover in her arms. It had been almost a month since they last saw one another, and Alex was anxious for all sorts of reasons.
She gradually felt safer as she passed the long expressway blocks. Busy restaurants and shops were replacing industrial buildings, and there were more signs of pedestrian traffic. Still, she didn't know why she was suddenly so paranoid. It could be the onslaught of another ‘Ally McBeal moment’, she hadn’t had one of those for quite a while now.
Or maybe the graphic descriptions of her client's life had unnerved her. The girl had been sullen from the start, and Alex had to coax and extract from her the necessary information. It had taken two hours for them to finally complete the paperwork. Then, before Alex could close the folder, the floodgate broke. The girl just talked and talked and talked about the ‘almost daily’ abuse, in painful explicit details. Alex never thought about stopping her. She just sat there and listened for the rest of the afternoon, believing that talking was definitely the first step to surviving.
**Yeah, that’s it. You’re just freaked out by what you heard.** As soon as she thought that, she saw it again. It had to be the same blue sedan. **Oh! My! God!** Suddenly, the fear that she never allowed herself to process latched on to her with a vengeance. **Did Velez find me? Oh, no! Not so soon! Not now! When I’m finally happy!** Alex felt her heart racing. She tried to catch the plate number, but the car left before she could.
**Okay, okay. Chill.** She told herself, and ordered herself to keep walking, to resist the urge to duck into the nearest opened shop. If they thought she was Alex Cabot, they would have simply shot her the first time they drove passed. They would not be checking her out and circling so many times. **If they were even circling at all.** She disputed, perfectly ready and willing to believe it was just tricks of her mind.
Her legs were moving, that was good. But a block later, her mind was still a jumbled mess, and her fear wouldn’t leave her alone.
**Fuck a duck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!** Alex swore in her head as she recalled the serial rapists who had been targeting her neighborhood, Lincoln Park and the surrounding areas. How many were there now? Two? Three? Four? “Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” One of them did have a dark blue car. “Fuck!”
**Didn’t they catch at least one of them? Damn it!** She couldn't remember. **Stop being so damn paranoid!** Her brain screamed over and over, while her footsteps turned into a quick count of ‘One’s’.
Another block. Somehow, Alex seized her growing fear and shoved it to the back of her mind. Still, she unconsciously increased her pace. Oneoneoneoneone…
Then she heard it. Stealthily almost. Right behind her. Increasing pace as well. Just enough to match her own.
**Fuck!** The light was red. She contemplated running through it, but the traffic was coming too quickly. Standing at the street corner, balancing her soles on the edge of the curb, and bracing herself, **One,** she looked back.
**Two.** Directly behind Alex was a young woman dressed like an art student. **Three.** A man in a three-piece suit followed, looking at his watch, impatient to get home.
Then, without warning, all her SVU cases, all the victims’ faces, all the account of their trauma came flooding back. All the cruelty, retold in the dull tone of the girl’s voice, reverberated in between her ears. **Four, five, six, seven, eight…** She counted each click of her heels to distract her panic.
At the next light, she looked back again. The street was deserted except for the three of them. Somehow, she still felt uneasy, downright spooked. She reached into her pocket and held her keys in her hand. One key between each finger. Just as Olivia had taught her. Her own set of legal ‘brass knuckles’. Ready to use as a weapon. Just in case.
There was no one around. No insidious looking madmen hiding behind trees. No men in trench coats talking to their watches. No delivery trucks parked where they shouldn't be. No blue sedan. **Why am I doing this to myself?** Alex managed to ask, hoping there would be a reasonable explanation.
Just one and a half more blocks. Then she'd be safe inside her home. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following her. The little hairs on the back of her neck started standing on their ends. Suddenly. Different footsteps. **Stop being so paranoid! STOP!** She screamed in her head, and began walking closer to the street.
**Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…** Wasn’t that what Olivia had told her to do? **Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three…** She wasn’t sure. She didn’t care. **Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight…** Her mind was in complete overdrive. Ready to dart out into traffic. And get herself killed that way. If she must.
**Alley! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!** She saw it ahead, and looked around. **Fuck! No choice!** She gripped her keys, hoping they would be sufficient. Completely expecting someone to jump out and grab her and force her into some dark place between the buildings. **Remember his face, remember his face…** She started chanting in her head, her prosecutor instinct kicking in. Most victims couldn't identify their attackers. They didn't want to see. Didn’t want to remember.
In a flash. For an instant. Alex saw her own twisted battered body by the dumpster on the cobble stones. Her suit torn. Her blood splattered across the half melted snow.
**NONONONO! Can’t ruin Christmas for Liv. Not like Dad ruined Thanksgiving. NO!** The equally fleeting thought gave way. **Rememberhisface, rememberhisface, sixty-three, sixty-five, rememberhisface, sixty-eight, sixty-seven, sixty-nine, rememberhisface…** The counting was not helping to still her mind. Nor her fear.
**Fuck! How could you be so dumb? Why didn't you let her teach you when she wanted to?** She mentally kicked herself. **SHUTUP!** She scolded, remembering exactly why. Remembered banging against something. The pain. The bruise. The even fiercer pain in the dark brown eyes. And the mixture of fear and panic. All from a little self-defense lesson mishap. **Shutupshutupshutup!**
She crossed the alley, then the street. No longer counting. The click-click of her heels sounding like a staccato drum beat. Whoever was following her echoed her rhythm. **Who the hell?** A block more, and she'd be home. **Oh God pleasepleaseplease…** ran through her mind over and over, blocking out everything else.
The footsteps increase their speed. Only a half block, and Alex would be home. She could see her building. Could imagine the warm, the safety of those protected secured walls. She just had to make it. Nothing could happen to her this close to home. **Nothingnothingabsolutelynothing…**
Now faster steps. Louder steps. Should she run? But which way? She didn't want to lead them to her apartment. **Can’t look back. Can’t let them see your fear.** Her heels clicked louder and faster. Much like the beat of her pounding heart. Two people’s pounding hearts! She could feel her skin crawling up and down her spine. All of her senses screamed. Making her feel as if something was just behind her about to grab her, closer and closer, the footsteps were catching up to her, then someone touched her shoulder. She yelped.
And turned sharply, backing up as she did. Then Alex saw her: a woman, perhaps around her age, looking absolutely confused.
"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out," the woman apologized. "I’m trying to find 2000 West on this street, but it seemed to cut off on Ashland. But the address I have says 2000… I’m new to the city and I don’t seem to know where I’m going…**
Alex laughed to herself, **Idiot!** and breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I think it picks up after Milwaukee, if you go West that way," she pointed. "You should be three or four blocks away."
"That way? But I was just there, and I couldn’t find it.” The woman looked befuddled.
“Did you go passed the grocery store?” Alex asked, trying to be helpful. Her nerves were finally calming down.
“Ah, no…”
“Oh, Milwaukee was just beyond the store. You can’t miss it. And then the street curves a little but if you cross Milwaukee and keep going West, you should be okay.”
“Ah, okay.” The woman thought about it for a while, committing the directions to memory. “Thank you so much for your help. Again, I'm sorry for freaking you out."
“It's quite all right.” Alex confirmed with a friendly smile. “Good luck. I hope you find where you're going. Have a good night."
“Thanks.” The woman smiled back and waved. “You have a good night, too.”
Alex looked around her. No one else was in sight. The sky was completely dark now, so she hurried on toward her condo. As she was about to unlock the front door, a man in a suit came out and held it open for her. They exchanged brief pleasantries when they passed each other. Only after the door closed, did Alex realized she had never seen the man before. She momentarily wondered if he was the real estate agent showing the for sale unit below hers.
Finally, she was turning the locks to her apartment. Her nerves were still a little shaky, as the residual feeling of unease lingered. Brushing it aside, she shook her head, embarrassed at how frightened she had been. **It’s amazing how you let yourself get so carried away. Sometimes you could be your own worst enemy, scaring yourself to death when you let your imagination run rampant.** This was definitely something to tell Olivia about, so they could both have a good laugh.
**Huh.** This was odd. “Oliver!” Alex called, wondering where he was. He was usually at the door when she opened it. By now he would be winding in and out of her legs, trying his best to mark and trip her at the same time. “Oliver, here, boy! I’m home!” She tried again, and thought, **That sounded so stupid… but where IS that silly feline?**
She turned back to the door, latched it, and put on the security alarm. "Oliver, where are you? Come on out. I'm too tired to play hide and seek with you."
Worried, Alex began to look for him in his usual hiding places, turning lights on in her wake. She checked under the futon, behind doors, under the dining room table and in all the chairs. No Oliver. Then she tried the kitchen, even the pantry. Still no Oliver.
“Oliver? Hey, Oliver!” Next, her study, and the adjoining bathroom. Finally, she got to her bedroom. She reached in and turned on the overhead switch, flooding the room with light. No Oliver in the closet, nor in the bathroom. She even checked the cabinets, just in case she had accidentally closed the doors on him.
“Oliver?” Alex was really worried now. Finally, she got down on her hands and knees, and checked under the bed.
There it was again. That sneaking feeling. That someone was watching. Or they were going to jump out from nowhere…
Shaking her head to get rid of that sensation, she raised the dust skirt. Suddenly, Oliver hissed and darted out from under the cover. “Jesus!” She yelped, her heart pounding again. **Okay, okay. Chill.** Taking a calming breath, and she peeked under the fabric just to make sure nothing else was hiding under there. **Okay, now you can feel completely stupid.**
Getting up, Alex realized her body was still shaking, her blood still pulsating. “What on earth is wrong with you? Chill, and get a grip. Okay?” She spoke out loud, consciously controlling the timbre of her voice with effort.
“Oliver?” She tried again, “Ah, better. Whew!” Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Oliver, Oliver… Wherefore art thou, Oliver?”
As it turned out, he was in the kitchen, sitting on the counter. “You know you shouldn’t be up there.” Alex shook her head, and picked him up. “We’re going to have to have a talk with Olivia about how much she’s spoiled you when she gets here, yes we are.” He trilled, and clung to her shoulder, butting his head against her face. “You’re just a big wuss, aren’t you?”